


01

by ShadowRae_W



Category: Original Work
Genre: "can't touch", F/F, Light BDSM, Masturbation, d/s dynamics, self-restraint, wager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 01:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19122088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowRae_W/pseuds/ShadowRae_W
Summary: A gorgeous woman masturbates under her keen lover's gaze.





	01

01

I took a sharp inhale through my nose and trained my eyes on the ticking clock on the far wall. 5:26, it read. Just a few more minutes. The sun was still a few hours until setting, and the late day light cut angled shadows across the furniture and cabinetry before me.

I started to feel restless, so I tried to adjust myself in my seat by straightening my back and tugging at my pants. Sitting back, the stiff plush of the chair met me, halting further movement. God, I wanted to move. I tested the armrests. Sturdy. Made of solid dark brown wood, smooth, almost glossy finish. I looked down to the right and watched as my fingernails grazed the length of the arm before settling into place. She would pick a chair like this.

I took another deep breath. Glancing at the clock- 5:27, damn it- before letting my eyes wander elsewhere. My gaze traced the familiar room from left to right, taking it in for the dozenth time. This was my apartment, from the tasteful warm grey walls, to the sparely packed bookcase topped with various art pieces, to the marble kitchen island, to the leather bar stools placed underneath, to the far wall where the cabinets, sink, fridge, and ticking clock resided. This was home. My eyes broke their travel as I thought. I knew that behind the island was the dishwasher and microwave, and the rug that felt prickly-soft but warm underfoot compared to the cool of the smooth white tile. The floor under my feet now was similarly smooth. The wood was warmer than tile in both hue and temperature.

My eyes resumed their journey, continuing rightwards to the short, narrow hall. The front door was at the end of it, and I could imagine walking in through it now. Entering from the front door, I would see the bathroom to my right, then to my immediate left, the hall closet where I hung my coat. A step, and I’d reach the washer dryer combo unit, the small linen closet back to the right. Then, a few more steps, and to the left again, would be the bedroom door. My eyes were looking at it now. With the way the floorplan was laid, that corner was left in shadow with an only a small sliver of light cast from the crack in the doorway. 

She was behind that door, keeping me waiting while she prepared. I felt saliva gathering at the back of my throat and fought the urge to swallow. I glanced off my shoulder to the right. A glass of water. It was clearly chilled from the way that condensation beaded along it. My eyes focused on a single drop as it made its trip from the lip of the cup down to where the bottom of the glass met the surface of the table, forming a small pool. I resisted the urge to grab a drink. She probably placed that there on purpose, too. If I couldn’t resist what I wanted now, then surely, I wouldn’t be able to resist what came next.

As if on cue, I heard soft music start playing, and the door to the bedroom brushed open softly as she finally stepped out. From the wait, I already knew that she was preparing something big, but to see the final package—I doubted if I was going to make it through this.

There, standing poised in the frame of the doorway was the finest specimen of woman that I’d ever laid my eyes on. She extended the length of one, long leg into view. The robe she wore was tied loosely, barely clinging from her shoulders and off of the mounds of her breasts. Every part of her was lust-inducing. Deep skin. Wide, womanly hips. A smooth abdomen. Ample breasts. The line of her collar bone. The column of her neck. All leading up to a beautiful face with sculpted cheekbones. She had plump lips, a petite nose, and dazzling, dark eyes. A heart-shaped face, haloed by a fan of airy, thick, kinky black hair. Gorgeous, soft and shimmering, she was the vision of a goddess. And she stole my breath away.

“Are you ready, BB?” Her voice was low and sultry as she walked towards me with practiced grace, light footfalls, hips swaying. The music grew louder, and I realized that the source of it came from the Bluetooth speaker in her hand. I chuckled to try to break the tension. 

“Where did all this come from?” I asked. 

My eyes were locked on her form, roaming over the curves of her body, burning the sight into my mind. She was always beautiful to me, but, here, at this moment, I felt as if I was looking at an entirely different woman. From the way that she carried herself to the way that she spoke. Everything screamed seduction. 

I finally pulled my eyes away from her body and met her eyes. She came to a halt in front of me, placing the speaker down. In a show, she lifted the glass of water off the table and took one long drink while maintaining eye contact. Criminal. 

She then sat sideways on my lap. Sitting on my lap caused the robe to catch between our legs, and tugged it down off her shoulders, so her breasts were now exposed. Crossing one leg over the other, she rolled her long neck side to side. Her cascade of dark hair gently brushed across my face. She smelled like coconut oil. God, I wanted her.

“You,” I cleared my throat, “haven’t answered my question?” She giggled briefly, then leaned her lips over to the side of my ear, sweetly whispering, “Neither did you.”

I felt a strong rise in me then. “Babe.” I stated, voice firm, “I don’t know where all this came from, but I’m ready for anything.”

She placed both her hands delicately on my shoulders, and squeezed lightly, before releasing them to trail her fingertips down my arms. “We’ll see about that,” She said. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled wickedly. She was enjoying this. The shift in our usual power dynamics. She had all of my attention and all of the control. The power, that was what fueled this. I had to admit that I liked it, too. I could appreciate why she enjoyed the lack of control. It was scary to a degree, to be so out of control of the situation but more than that, what was most frightening was how I found it exciting.

“Relax, BB,” She breathed. One long leg swung over so that she was fully straddling my thighs. “To reiterate what we agreed on,” She began. “You can’t touch me or move. All you can do is watch as I do whatever I want in front of you. If you lift your arms from the rests, your hips from the seat, or your feet from the ground I win, and I’ll get to punish you for a change. If you manage to last the whole hour, then I lose, and you can do whatever you want to me, BB.” 

“And what exactly are you going to do?” I couldn’t help but ask. Even though I already had a pretty good idea by now. 

“Well,” She started. “Since you’re not allowed to touch me, I guess that I have to touch myself.” She emphasized her point by steadily running her fingers over her breast and along her inner thigh. She raised her leg and propped the heel of her foot onto the end table beside us. I had a perfect view of her womanhood, finely haired, pink and fragrant. She was already wet. A shock of saliva gushed into my mouth abruptly. I remembered the taste of her vividly. My jaw tensed. My heart thumped heavily. I wanted to taste. Badly. This was torture.

She smiled cutely at my obvious reaction then began to focus on what she had set out to do. She slowly teased herself, gliding her index finger along the sides of her clitoris. Her brow lowered into a slight “v” of concentration. Her finger dipped low over her opening, which was steadily dripping slick wetness, and covering the digit in it, she glided her finger back up, lubricating her clit. She repeated this process several times while I sat entranced, staring. 

After a while of this, she brought that same finger to one breast. She started by lightly tapping the head of one dark nipple, circling it, coating it in her juices, and pinching it with her index finger and thumb. Her brow relaxed as she closed her eyes. She leaned her head back, getting lost in the sensation for a moment. She began to alternate between pleasuring each breast and teasing her sex. Each time she switched, her pace increased, and she moaned, truly starting to lose herself in her self-administered pleasure. 

Eventually, she stopped teasing her breasts and focused on her clitoris instead, moving from more teasing, hesitant movements to bolder ones. She arched and shifted in my lap. Her fingers ran over a particular spot on the side of her clitoris rapidly and the appendage grew tighter under the stimulus. She moaned at length and I had to stifle a groan. Then she suddenly stopped. Sweat clung to her brow. She was panting heavily, so was I. Her soft lower lips were spread open, and I could see her glistening wetness trickling down her inner thigh. Her dark eyes met mine. Then, she continued moving, smiling devilishly; her moaning resumed.

I could only imagine what I looked like. Tight with tension, back straight, hands clutching the armrests. I was soaking wet and ready to go. Every sound she made went straight from her mouth, into my ears, and bolted down to my aching clit. My mouth was dry, and my jaw was welded shut. I tried to school my eager expression into one of passivity, to put up a front of impenetrability. I fought. But my eyes, I felt them burning. 

She maintained eye-contact as her pace ramped up faster and faster then, stopped again, chest heaving. She took two fingers and placed them at her opening, circling it, once- twice, before pushing them slowly inside, sighing with relief. I swallowed thickly. She began to push her fingers in and out, nodding her head along to the rhythm of her movements, crooking her fingers inside herself and moving with increasing speed. In a sudden shout, she threw her head back, then quickly, desperately, she added fingers on her clit again, rubbing it with astounding speed. She seized before me, caught mid-cry, as she finished in silence, riding out her orgasm. With a shutter, her voice returned as she steadily came down from her climax and got her breathing under control.

Unexpectedly, with both hands, she grasped my face, tilted it up, and brought her lips down to mine. It was a slow sensual kiss, hot, but not urgent. It was sweet, and her lips pulled at mine with open affection. I relished it. Any contact, I needed it. But then she pulled away. Her eyes were blown wide and the look on her face was soft. I couldn’t resist anymore.

I caved and kissed her back.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all,
> 
>    
> This was my first piece of erotic fiction. Since you made it all the way through, I can only hope you liked it. 
> 
> As an amateur writer, I'm looking to improve my writing (diction, pacing, sentence structure, etc.) with each work I post here so I would appreciate any feedback you can provide. I'd just like to know:  
> 1) what was hot (if anything)   
> 2) what could have been better, and   
> 3) any other comments you have. 
> 
> I take erotic writing tips as well!
> 
> Thanks!  
> S.R.W.


End file.
